


All downhill from here

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25159015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: Ianto finds himself on a slippery slope.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2016





	All downhill from here

Ianto pulled himself up out of the snow, dusting himself off and retrieving his fallen ski pole. He pushed off again, following after Jack, who was blazing a trail down the slope. He'd only started out a few yards behind him, but now it was several hundred, and he was almost disappearing out of view. Every time he fell, Jack gained more and more ground on him.

Skiing was definitely not his thing, he decided, having spent more time with his arse stuck in the snow, which on this planet was a pale fuchsia colour, clashing with the lime green sky overhead.

He'd tried in earnest to master the basics, but skis were far more slippery than they looked, and moving downhill at any sort of speed was not as much fun as Jack had made it out to be. Or perhaps it was the hurtling uncontrollably downhill that he didn't like. Whatever it was, he knew he wouldn't have to wait long until his manic descent was once again arrested by his inability to stay upright for more than a few dozen yards.

He pushed himself up once again and started off, feeling unsteady, and gripping to the poles as if they had the ability to hold him up. In truth, they seemed pretty useless to him, except for the initial push to start off his momentum. Still he clung to them in vain hope.

When he lost his balance a few moments later, slamming backwards into the snow once more, he decided he'd had enough.

Jack must have sensed the growing distance between them, because he turned around and came back. This only added insult to injury, watching Jack power back uphill just as easily. He stopped a few yards below him, finding the ski that had torn away from his boot and continued its tumble down the mountain, picking it up on his way.

'What happened?'

'What does it look like?'

'You're supposed to use your skis if you want to stop.'

'Har, har. Falling was so much easier, and I'm good at it.'

'Up you get,' said Jack, staring down at Ianto.

'Nope,' he said, 'I think I'll he just lie here for a while,' resting his head back in the snow.

Jack cocked his head at him. 'You'll get cold if you lie there too long.'

'I'm Welsh. We're used to the cold.'

Jack looked down at him for a few moments, before unclipping his skis from his boots and sitting down in the snow, leaning back alongside his lover, and making a snow angel shape before coming to rest.

They lay there together as several other skiers zipped past them down the mountain, speeding around them as they provided additional obstacles. Jack spied a young Vertonian speed past on half length skis, making light work of zipping around the slalom poles dotted down the slope, agile as a cat.

'Show off,' he heard Ianto mutter, watching the same little boy.

When they'd been there long enough that Jack could feel the snow starting to melt underneath his head, seeping into the thick wool of his beanie, he sat up. Jack grabbed a handful of snow and rolled over, rubbing it in Ianto's face, receiving a grumpy sound in return. 'Come on, you're going to learn to ski, even if it kills you.' He hauled himself to his feet, reaching down to Ianto for his hand.

'It seems grossly unfair of you to take advantage of my immortality that way,' Ianto complained, but taking the offered hand all the same.

'What would be the fun in being perfect at everything first time around? Look it's easy. Pizza for stop, French fries for go.'

'Huh?' Ianto said, looking confused.

'Pizza,' Jack said, making an upside down V with his gloved hands, showing him the position of his skis, 'to stop, and French fries,' he said, pulling his hands apart and holding them parallel, 'to go.'

'What does pizza and French fries have to do with anything?'

'It's a metaphor,' Jack sighed. 'Didn't you ever watch South Park?'

'No.'

'And you say I don't get twentieth-century culture.'


End file.
